Redemption
by wolfofsummerbreeze
Summary: Matthew, Jaffar, a letter, and tears. A story of forgiveness, release, and hope. Jaffars hands are gentle despite all the lives he had taken. Slowly he's discovering what it means to be human with Matthew at the center of it all. upliftingly sad


It was a letter. Simple, white, and unassuming besides Matthew's name scrolled across it. It was nonetheless one of the most important and frightening things he had seen in a while.

"W-when did you get this?" Mark stared at him impassively.

"It came this morning with another message saying they found it when moving her things."

Matthew didn't even notice Mark walking away.

oOo

Jaffar wasn't a deep sleeper of any sort. If anything he couldn't sleep most of the time. Years of being the main lapdog to a man who physically needed no sleep made him develop a meditation like mode that allowed his body to rest.

Allowing his mind to rest had never been a problem. He'd only have to follow orders, life was simple. Now… now things were different.

If he had thought Nino was comparable to a ray of sunshine leaking through a crevice into a cold dank cave then Matthew was a star; distant enough to be cold, brilliant enough to be captivating. And Jaffar was captivated.

Matthew was at once every emotion Jaffar had lacked and in such quantity that he was almost afraid he'd drown. Matthew was cold and distant when reminded of Leila, blazing with anger when the reason of her death was brought up, and cold with fury and malice when presented with her killer. The man was not only all that but he was warm, teasing, joyful, sly, amusing, and sometimes shy—but never towards Jaffar. There had only been that one time…

When Jaffar thinks about that one time he loses himself in it. He becomes unaware of his surroundings to the point where only Serra's screeching could penetrate his thoughts. In a way, Jaffar is thankful for that, because it finally proves that he is human.

That time isn't something he wants to be happy about. He can't be happy about it because it was the first time he had felt so hopeless. Matthew's blade had been pressed up against his neck and Jaffar knew he was about to die. He just hoped nobody would blame Matthew, or that Nino wouldn't try to get revenge. He imagined he had the same look on his face as Leila did—the look that had confused him so much, the look he hadn't understood until that point, the look of resignation and… acceptance. Matthew had seen something then in that moment. Maybe he had actually seen Leila, Jaffar didn't really know. Either way… that had been the moment he became both fascinated with Matthew and the moment that had given him back his humanity—his ability to feel.

Matthew had cried; his face twisted into such a pained expression it had broken Jaffar's heart. And all Jaffar had wanted to do was hold him as he listened to Matthew. Then Matthew had been gone and Jaffar was left with the reality that he felt, for the first time, regret, remorse, and guilt. If Nino hadn't run up to him shortly afterward he might've even killed himself.

Later, after Nino went to sleep, he had walk out of the tent only to run into Legault. Legault had just stared at him like he was looking into his soul and then patted him on the head. The gesture had been so out-of-the-ordinary it snapped Jaffar out of his thought process. Then Legault had given him some of the best advice he'd ever received.

'You can't change the past. If you find you made a mistake then go back and correct it or if it can't be corrected then find a way to make up for it. You're still alive, Jaffar. Your death will never bring those people you've killed back. The only thing you can do now is live in their place. You've taken their life, now you have to bear the burden.'

Jaffar remembered their faces. It was a skill pounded into him, to never forget a face. He remembered them so that they would always be alive with him. There were times he did wonder if they wouldn't want him dead… but he had learned that his life didn't belong to him anymore. When injured he would have people protect him, tell him not to die. Even Matthew had put himself in front of Jaffar, saying that the only one deserving of taking the life of the angel of death was Matthew himself.

And slowly, slowly Jaffar was learning how to live, how to protect those he cared about. He may no longer be the perfect soldier… but now he had a reason to fight.

It was one of the nights thoughts like these plagued him that he heard somebody crying.

This had been happening more frequently lately. The first time had been Florina, she had cried herself to sleep and all Jaffar could even think to do was watch. He had brought her to Lyn once she was asleep. Lyn didn't mention it after that.

Next had been Serra. He had had been gripped by the urge to get someone—Oswin or Erk—when she had spotted him, started quivering, and somehow in his attempt to comfort her had ended up with a tearful healer soaking his shoulder. After that she was never afraid to heal him and he noticed that she always kept an eye on him like she did Erk, never saying anything—just doing.

Being presented with a blubbering Sain the next night hadn't been fun. He had gotten Kent, who had thought Sain had been attacked, and then ran into Legault. Legault had been both amused and serious and had given the pair an interesting talk that had Jaffar completely redefining the way he looked at men. Needless to say, Sain spent a whole lot less time flirting with women and more time flirting with Kent (both just to see Kent's reaction to either action and also because he was actually being honest when it was Kent).

The next one had happened after an unfortunate run-in with Heath and Legault up against a tree. That had been an eye opener. But to find the lord Eliwood himself, and crying on top of that? Jaffar had quickly gone to Mark. The situation with Eliwood was too delicate to be handled by anyone else. Mark knew his company inside and out and would know exactly who to send. Unfortunately he dragged Jaffar along with him. Hector had been the one to go and Matthew had been hanging around his tent when the duo had entered. Jaffar had left them to it—after agreeing to 'assassinate' the three lords traveling with them in order to let them all secretly escape to Sacae. Apparently Hector and Eliwood both had cousins who could take over in their place and since neither of them could produce heirs (was the whole company besides Pent, Louise, and a select other few gay?) it would work out for the best. Then he had gone to extract the same promise from Nino and Legault (and by extension Heath) as well as convey the invitation of joining the ever increasing new Lorca tribe.

Or that had been the plan until he had run across Wil and Lucius clinging to each other also looking hopeless. He had given up right then and there of sleeping or anything similar and had quietly (but in a tone of voice that was still very audible) informed both Raven and Rath that their significant others to be were apparently unaware of the affection the stoic made harbored towards them. Jaffar was left wondering if he shouldn't listen to his own advice before going to find Legault.

Needless to say he was both not impressed but resigned when he heard someone else crying. It was quiet and choked, unlike most of the others who had left the tents they shared in order to cry—seriously cry—without worry of waking their tentmates up. The sound reminded him of when he was talking to Mark the day with Eliwood. He had said that people tend to bottle up their emotions during war. These emotions need to be let out or people can explode or go insane. If people deny their release then it just grows worse, which is what they had hoped Eliwood had Not done.

He paused at the sight that greeted him as he came across the source. Matthew was crying, a hand over his mouth as if to shove the sounds back down his throat. His other hand clutched a crumpled up piece of paper.

Jaffar didn't think. His body was suddenly across the space between them and he was standing in front of Matthew who was staring at him slightly horrified. Before Matthew could speak he had almost ripped off his cloak and was securing it around the sandy-haired man, oblivious to the slack jaw and wide eyes that adorned the thief.

Jaffar's hair now fell into his eyes but paid it no mind. Shifting his grip he pulled Matthew into his chest. He didn't think about getting Serra, or Hector, or Guy or Legault. None of them were present but he was.

"It's okay to cry." They were the first words out of his mouth.

Sob. Sniffle. "What would you know?"

It was indignant and resigned; that swirling mixture of emotions that was purely Matthew. His grip tightened.

He pieced something together in his mind in that moment. Something Matthew had been hiding from the world.

"You haven't really cried since Leila died." He didn't need vocal confirmation; Matthew stiffening in his arms was enough. "Even that night… you held it in didn't you?" Silence was condemning in itself.

He let the silence continue, forming his next words.

"We're you waiting until you had killed me?"

Matthew turned to him, something like 'why do you care?' poised on his tongue. They all died in his mouth. Jaffar looked down at him with something besides that blank expression on his face. Concern, sadness, even guilt, all warred in his eyes. There was so much expression in them that suddenly Matthew found himself unable to speak, his throat knotted up.

"Do you think she'd be happy seeing you like this?" And there Matthew saw the rest of the sentence. 'Do you think I'm happy seeing you like this?' And for once Matthew was completely floored. His face crumpled and he hid it in the shoulder of the man who had killed his lover and finally—finally—he mourned her death.

As he sobbed he was almost hyperaware or Jaffar's hands. They were calming and grounding, gentle and kind. Matthew couldn't help but wonder if when he had been looking for a reaction from the stoic man he had been looking in the wrong place.

It was almost absurd how comfortable he was. Jaffar was warm. He found himself slowly drifting to sleep.

He woke up a couple hours later when it was still deep in the night. He also managed to feel embarrassed enough to blush despite the drained feeling one gets after a good cry.

What surprised him the most was that Jaffar was asleep and not letting go. First, he did think the man actually slept and second, the man could have let him escape with some of his dignity.

But what was even stranger was when Jaffar woke up to stare at him with fuzzy sleep-filled eyes on his still relaxed face… and also that Matthew suddenly found himself with the butterflies. To see such an expression on such a man's face…

Matthew was defiantly feeling disoriented. "If you're going to sleep," he managed to croak out, "do it in a tent."

Jaffar just stared at him like he had announced he was pregnant with Serra's baby and they had found out it was a hermaphrodite and did Jaffar want to come to the wedding or eat it for breakfast?

"What?!" Matthew felt he deserved no such look.

"I haven't slept that well. Ever." Matthew just stared at him uncomprehending. "Thank you."

Matthew was obviously too tired for this and stood up, the letter falling from his hands.

Jaffar picked it up, flipped in over to see Matthew's name on it, and handed it to him. "What is it?"

Matthew swallowed and took the letter back as Jaffar stood up. "It's Leila's last letter."

Jaffar stilled.

Matthew was about to say something else but Jaffar beat him to it.

"She's the first person I ever regretted killing."

At first Matthew was lost for words. Slowly things came back to him. Jaffar's hands. Nino. The look on his face when he was about to die. The letter.

"I'm sorry."

Matthew was crying again and as Jaffar reached up to wipe his tears away Matthew snapped.

He grabbed the hand inches away from his face. "D-don't." He could barely see thought his tears now. "I don't-I didn't… _I'm_ sorry." At Jaffar's confusion he continued. "I did-didn't know that you-how you grew up. I didn't and-and she and-it's Nergal's not yours-and I-"

Jaffar's hand slowly peeled the letter out of his grip. He didn't protest. He just stood there. He'd been a fool.

Leila had written that she didn't think she'd survive. She'd written about the black fang… about who was to blame and who was being manipulated. She'd written an entire paragraph about Jaffar; about how he had no free will, about how she wouldn't blame him if he were to kill her. She told him not to pursue revenge but to stop Nergal. She'd apologized for not meeting his parents. She wished him to find someone else to be happy with. She wished he'd let her go.

Arms surrounded him and pulled him closer to a man he was now only beginning to understand.

This time he didn't fall asleep. When he pulled away there was the saddest, smallest smile on Jaffar's face. After that Jaffar took him back to his tent.

Matthew didn't fall asleep right away. He thought of Leila, Jaffar, warmth, gentle hands, the feeling of being protected, and moving on. He also realized that even with her death she was trying to bring him happiness. He really had been a fool.

oOo

… Author's notes…

Maybe I should continue this? They never actually got together. Still… I do like it how it is.


End file.
